


Stay Still

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [11]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 31 Days of Ficmas, Blood, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Pain, Snow, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The Doctor realises the reader is injured when she sees blood in the snow.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Reader, Thirteenth Doctor/Reader
Series: 31 Days of Ficmas 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035468
Kudos: 35





	Stay Still

Disgraceful, really. That’s what it was. The Doctor had brought you here for a nice little wander around the intergalactic markets, the best place this side of Alpha Centauri to get those sweet flamingo nuts that you liked so much. It was supposed to be a safe, relaxing break away from the running and the danger. Nothing bad ever happened here.

Except for today.

A platoon of Judoon from a nearby moon had come in search of a fugitive and chaos ensued. Guns and swords and all manner of ugly weapons had been thrown around, turning what should have been a pretty space market into a battlefield from Hell. The Doctor had gotten you out of there as quickly as possible but she knew you were still shaken by the barbarity you had witnessed.

Spinning around, the crisp white snow crunching beneath her boots, The Doctor caught your hand and grinned. “So, this didn’t go quite to plan but there’s a festival on the twin planet where -”

Her proposition faded as she noticed something over your shoulder. A trail of red droplets marked your path. She strode past you and bent down, touching the warm liquid with her fore finger. Ignoring your protest, The Doctor licked the tip of her finger and grimaced. Blood. Human blood.

“What happened?”

You shook your head, shifted your weight awkwardly between your feet. “It’s nothing.”

“You’re bleeding! That is definitely not nothing!” The Doctor lifted your arms and frowned at the dark mark on your side. She threw her hands in the air, her hearts racing. First glance suggested an injury to at least one internal organ, possibly more. It was a miracle you were still standing. “Don’t keep staring at me like that! Be sensible and sit down, will you?”

“Why are you angry at me?”

You sounded so small, so scared and the terror in your eyes threatened to pierce her hearts. She felt sick with guilt, horrified at herself for taking out her own fear on you, the very person she was scared for. The Doctor steadied her emotions, knew that now wasn’t the time for another outburst. How she wished she could turn back time and take back the first, save you both from her anger. Crossing her own personal timeline though… That would certainly not make things better.

She took a deep breath and apologised. “I’m sorry. But you should have told me you were injured.”

“It was only a scratch. I’ve suffered far worse.”

Wasn’t that the truth? All because The Doctor took her eye off the ball, allowed herself to get distracted and left you to face the danger on your own. And that was the thing; you were so brave. So wonderfully inquisitive and observant and independent that it was easy for The Doctor to turn her back and let you explore the universe on your own terms.

She forgot that you were a human, that you were so much more vulnerable than her and, every time you risked your life to do something genuinely kind for a species you hadn’t known existed the day before she felt responsible for the injuries you accrued. Over and over you reminded her that it wasn’t your fault but you didn’t understand. She had a duty of care to keep you safe and, like everything else recently, she’d failed once again.

Now wasn’t the time for blame, though. Not with your life on the line.

The Doctor set you back against a tree and said gently, “Hold still, okay? I’m just gonna have a little look and see…”

Carefully, she plied the blood soaked fabric from your side and winced. This body definitely didn’t like blood – or maybe she just didn’t like that it was yours – but she was The Doctor and you needed saving.

Watching your every reaction, The Doctor pushed your shirt up around your ribs and assessed the damage. It was even worse than she’d thought. The wound was messy. Not a nice clean shot through with a laser rifle that could be fixed with staples and cheese at a pinch. This was deep and expanding. Her sonic said that the weapon had necrotised the flesh and the damage was spreading.

A quick bit of mental maths confirmed the worst of her theories: you had less than ten minutes to live unless she did something brilliant to save you.

But The Doctor did well with deadlines. She was great with them, in fact. Always managed to come up with something at the last minute. Except that one time on Caltraxi Seven. And, of course, she never seemed to be able to save Gallifrey. So, maybe, eighty – no, sixty three percent of the time. Those were still good odds though.

All of those thoughts passed through her mind in less time than it took to slide her arm beneath you and lift you against her chest. You groaned at the pressure against your wound but it carry you like this or flung over her shoulder – potentially a piggy back too – but neither of those seemed appropriate.

So, The Doctor cradled you against her chest and ploughed through the snow, angry at her legs for being so short this time around. She could have made the journey back to the TARDIS is half the time a few regenerations ago when she’d been all limbs and ridiculous scarves.

Actually, The Doctor thought fondly, she loved that scarf. She loved it even more after you’d found it in one of the endless cupboards and pranced around the console room wearing it. You’d danced to a silent jig, swung the rainbow lengths around like ribbons in the air, even pulled The Doctor into the fun as well. Paying no attention to the long ends, you soon fell over and landed straight in her arms, a bright grin on your face – so at odds with the pained tears now.

“It hurts, Doctor.”

“I know. Just hold on for me. We’re almost there.”

Speeding up, desperate to see that smile again, The Doctor nearly cheered when the familiar blue box came into view. “You’re going to be alright,” she promised, kicking the door open. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”


End file.
